


Passing the Time: The Skelebros' Story

by scifi10



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Death, Fluff, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, More tags will be added later, Mute Frisk, Pillow violence, Pseudo Science, Recovery, Sickness, Skelebro back story, gender neutral frisk, headcannons, injuries, non-cannon elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifi10/pseuds/scifi10
Summary: Surprisingly, Sans has a very good reason for failing to take Frisk to the science museum for the third time this month.  Both brothers decide it's high time they confide in their friends, realizing their long silence has done more harm than good.  And really, what better way is there to pass the time while confined to your bed than story time among friends?





	1. Prologue: Story Time

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first ever fanfiction! I feel I've been a bit unfair, reading all these excellent stories without contributing any of my own. That, and figuring I have nothing to lose if it stinks, drove me to post one of my own. I apologize, I know a skelebro backstory isn't particularly original, but have no fear, I have my own spin planned! I figured I would see if there's interest and maybe get some feedback on my style and execution, since I haven't written creatively in, well, ever. So please, feel free to comment if you have any suggestions. That being said, on with the story!

Frisk was excited. That was their first impression as they opened their eyes, squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the panes of glass and around their curtains. But why? Their brain fog slowly cleared, and it occurred to them; today was finally the day Sans was going to take them to the science museum. He had talked about taking Frisk months ago, but then events had inevitably worked against them. Sans had cancelled twice, and Frisk had ambassador duties, school, and homework. Somehow they had forgotten how much time school had taken up, even over the weekends. It’s not that they didn’t enjoy school, but they also liked spending time with their new monster friends.

Frisk frowned. They had been on the surface for a couple of months, but they really hadn’t seen much of anyone besides Toriel. They had an anime night with Alphys and Undyne in the first week, and Papyrus had Spaghetti Sunday a month ago, but they supposed everyone had spent most of their time trying to acclimate to their new lives on the surface. Their frown deepened as they recalled all the problems monsters had faced when they first got to the surface. Racism was an issue, even among humans, and it was taking time to register all the monsters. The good news was, they were recognized as sentient beings, so if they could pass a basic intelligence test, they were eligible for citizenship and all the rights that entailed. Asgore was still attempting to work out a system for simpler monsters such as Moldsmals. In the meantime, all of the monsters who passed were issued temporary identification cards and were assigned housing while the currency issue was worked out. All gold was traded for credit on the surface until Asgore could work out a system with the national government, which they were certain wouldn’t be anytime soon. Humans were stubborn, slow, and much too enamored with gold.  

Anyway, Frisk was lucky to have such a large room, and in a single house at that. Most of the monsters had been crammed into low-income housing hastily constructed on the outskirts of town. Their friends were no exception, and though it was nice they were able to be housed in the same building, Frisk knew there was a good reason Toriel wasn’t comfortable with them walking there alone. Frisk had seen the dirty, run-down apartments occupied by Alphys and Undyne, and Sans and Papyrus, respectively. Papyrus had been delighted by the accommodations, but Frisk didn’t experience the same delight at being able to sit on the toilet and wash their hands at the same time.

At least they would be getting Sans out of that place for a while. Frisk frowned. Oddly, they had no idea how Sans was doing. They had a feeling Sans would need a bit of an adjustment period, but it hadn’t seemed he was doing badly when they saw him at Spaghetti Sunday. But, they supposed that was a month ago. They sure had missed him. Somehow he was pretty busy, at least that’s what Papyrus had said. Papyrus had been busy too, but that was somehow to be expected. Frisk was a bit disappointed that Papyrus hadn’t wanted to come along to the museum, but they supposed he was trying to give them and Sans some hangout time.

Frisk grinned. After Sans had cancelled the second time, he had promised to make it this time. They were so excited. They picked out their favorite sweater, pulling it on over a Ebott Elementary t-shirt and got out a clean pair of jeans. They were just tying their sneakers when they heard a soft knock on their bedroom door.

“Frisk? My child, breakfast is ready.”

Frisk opened the door, smiled widely and signed, _I’m ready!_

Toriel laughed. “Oh my, you must be excited! I have made waffles for breakfast, as well as some sandwiches to take along today. Sans will be here in about thirty minutes.”

Frisk grinned, _Thanks, Mom, you’re the best!_ They shared a hug before heading downstairs.

\--

They should have known it was too good to last. An hour later, they were anxiously fidgeting on the couch while Toriel punched the Papyrus’ number into her cell phone. Boy, was Mom mad. It took a lot to get her past the boiling point, but once she passed the threshold, she sure was scary. She only got scarier when she was unable to reach Sans, but honestly, Frisk knew he almost never answered calls on it. Frisk winced a bit when Papyrus picked up after the second ring, bracing for the storm that was sure to follow.

“Yes, yes, good morning, Papyrus. Listen, I assume your brother is already on his way here, he is incredibly late,” she said, sweetly but with a definite edge. There was a pause. “What do you mean he probably will not make it today,” she growled, continuing without pause. “He is there, is he not? Then we will be over in ten minutes.”

Toriel hung up swiftly, not even waiting for a response, anger rolling off of her in waves while she muttered to herself angrily. “He thinks he can get away with standing up my child again? Well he will not be let off the hook so easily this time. Come, child,” she barked all of a sudden.

Frisk winced, but hurriedly complied. Toriel took note, softening a bit. “Oh, my child, I am not angry with you. I am angry with Sans. You were excited, and he broke your plans three times. I swear, I will figure out why,” her voice hardening as she took their hand and led them out the door.

\--

It was a beautiful day outside, and the contrast between the clear skies and Toriel’s stormy complexion would have been comical if Frisk wasn’t stuck in the middle of the conflict. They really hated confrontation, especially between friends. Even more so, they hated that they were partially the cause of this, even though logically they knew it was not their fault. Sometimes adults just needed an excuse to fight, and unfortunately, Frisk was the excuse this time. Their hand remained trapped in her hot, but not tight, grip as they marched through the suburbs and up the stairs of the grimy complex to apartment 406. Mercifully, she released their hand to knock politely on the door. An amazing feat in Frisk’s opinion, but they supposed she was a monster of decorum. They were surprised when it was Undyne who opened the door. So, apparently, was Undyne.

“Frisk!” she exclaimed, and suddenly they were spinning. It stopped quickly, probably as Undyne noticed the large, angry goat monster that was accompanying their small friend.

Undyne gulped, suddenly a bit green around the gills. “Hello, Toriel,”

“So he is too busy to spend time with Frisk, but not to have friends over?” She fumed.

“Well, actually,” Undyne started, but suddenly, Frisk’s wrist was in Toriel’s hand and they were pushing past the flustered fish monster into the small living quarters, where Alphys was elbows deep into dishes at the kitchenette’s sink. To Frisk’s brief relief, they pushed onward to the room where they could hear Papyrus’ unusually quiet voice.

“Come on, brother, you really need to wake up.” Papyrus said, shaking Sans’ shoulder lightly. However, he started violently when the door banged open. Frisk supposed Toriel decided the time for decorum was over. Papyrus moved protectively in front of the bed, eyes wide as he bore the brunt of her maternal fury.

“He’s still in bed?” she hissed. “Does he not even have the decency to be awake to face the music? Does he not care-”

She stopped abruptly, though, when she caught sight of Sans. Frisk understood why.

He looked awful. His complexion was so pale, it bordered on grey, his skull was beaded with sweat, and his eyelights were overly large and dim as his sockets creaked opened. There was no sign of recognition in them at first as he blinked blearily.

“pap,” he winced, stopping suddenly, voice rough and crackly. “what-oh,” he said, catching sight of Frisk. Frisk swore they could see each thought in his eyes. It went roughly like, what is Frisk doing here, in my room? What could possibly be going on—

“oh shoot!” he exclaimed. Clearly, an epiphany had struck. To their shock, he began struggling against the covers, bones rattling audibly. “the science museum! i promised this time, i can’t say no again-- ”

He managed to free himself, miraculously standing upright, where he immediately hunched over and swayed, bringing a hand to his temple, before his legs gave out.

“Sans!” multiple voices, exclaimed, the most concerned of the lot belonging to Papyrus. “No brother, you are not going anywhere today,” he intoned firmly, kneeling down to Sans’ shuddering form and picking him up. “You still haven’t recovered enough,” he muttered lowly, pseudo-brows drawing together as he tucked Sans under the blankets once again. The small skeleton still hadn’t stopped shivering, the rattle of bones muffled slightly under the blanket.

Sans drew in a couple of shuddering breaths. “aw, kiddo. i’m really sorry. this is the main reason why i hate making promises; i usually just end up disappointing people.”

Frisk was quick to reassure. _Don’t worry, Sans. The science museum will still be there. I was just excited to hang out with you again_ , they told him. Their shoulders drooped a bit. _I’ve missed you. It’s been over a month._

Toriel picked that moment to assert herself. Honestly, Frisk was surprised she had waited so long. They supposed her anger had been tempered by the shock of Sans’ condition.

“Yes, Sans, why have you waited so long to make contact? You surely have not been ill for the duration of the month,” she inquired, sternly.

The eyes of both skelebros suddenly had more interesting places to focus, like the carpet, or the ceiling. Toriel hissed, equally concerned and furious. “He has been ill for a month, and _you two didn’t tell us about it_!?” she whispered, voice low and dangerous. “Surely it has occurred to you this might in fact be dangerous, and those who care might like to know about it. I suppose this is what you meant when you told me Sans had been busy,” she said, the full intensity of her glare suddenly on Papyrus.

“Now wait, just a minute!” Frisk jumped, they had no idea that Undyne and Alphys had come in.

“You both have been real busy since coming to the surface, just like everyone else!” Undyne raged, “And it’s not like you bothered to check in yourselves!” Just as the argument was about to heat up, Sans intervened.

“don’t blame papyrus,” a weak voice intoned. Sans coughed a bit, dryly. “it was me who requested to keep this quiet. i know everyone is busy, and it’s not exactly a new development,” he noted.

Dead silence. Sans began to sweat (metaphorically and physically) under the weight of the combined stare of Toriel, Undyne, and Alphys, two out of the three more furious than concerned.

“What,” was all Undyne could manage. The sweating intensified. “Explain. How long. How often.”

Papyrus spoke up, trying to take the brunt of the fury off of his brother. “About a week out of every month while we were underground,” he admitted softly, feet shuffling anxiously, “but almost the entire time since we reached the surface. That spaghetti dinner a month ago was an unofficial celebration of him getting well, but I suppose that was only a brief respite.”

Papyrus’ breathing began to hitch, soft sobs escaping his mouth, a hand coming up to cover his teeth, and worry wrinkling his features. Undyne immediately softened. “Aw, Pap, this long? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I wouldn’t have kicked his a--” A stern cough interrupted her, “er, butt, for missing work so much.”

Papyrus had started to cry, honest to goodness tears. Alphys seemed to come to a conclusion. “Sans! Is t-that why you quit your job at the labs?” Sans’ sheepish expression told her all she needed to know. “I was so mad at you! Why d-didn’t you tell me that’s why you l-left?” She softened a bit. “I could have helped too, you know,” she said, a bit more gently.

Papyrus had started shooting urgent looks at Sans between tears. “And me!” Toriel said, in a bit of disbelief at this point. “I know we only met recently face to face, but really! We are friends, and I would like to know when a friend of mine is having a rough time!”

At this point, silent tears began streaming out of Sans’ eye sockets as well, but he seemed more concerned about Papyrus, who was almost wailing at this point. “thanks, everyone,” he choked out, “you have no idea what that means to the both of us.” He shot an urgent look at Papyrus. “paps, what’s wrong?”

Papyrus was struggling to breathe through his tears. “I-I’m sorry,” he finally managed. “I’m touched, really I am, but this reminds m-me…of…then!” He wailed, and Sans now looked extremely guilty.

“come here, pap,” he said, Papyrus immediately diving to his bedside where he clung to Sans like a lifeline. Sans gently returned the fierce hug, patting his brother’s heaving back. “i know, it was a rough time, but i’m still here,” he soothed, rubbing circles just under Papyrus’ shoulder blades. Everyone watched the display, torn between and concern for both of them and a bit of embarrassment at witnessing such a private moment.

“But for how much longer!” Papyrus questioned, and Sans stiffened a bit. He averted his eyelights, now even dimmer than they had been before. “can’t really answer that pap, but i’m here now, and so are our friends,” he said, blushing a bit, having once again noticed they weren’t alone. Papyrus did not, or rather, did not care at the moment, and continued to sob into his brother’s chest.

Everyone was now completely at a loss. Frisk was crying themselves by this point, Undyne and Alphys were hugging, and Toriel looked torn, wishing to comfort the tall skeleton, but unsure about how to properly proceed. She settled for resting a paw on his shoulder.

“My dear,” she intoned softly, “I am very sorry to hear about this burden you have been carrying. Perhaps it would help to share it among friends,” she suggested. “I would love to help you, but I believe I speak for everyone here when I say I am at a bit of a loss,” she confessed, Undyne and Alphys agreeing a bit too enthusiastically.

Sans sighed, eyeing his brother. “well, bro, what d’you think? would it help you if we broke our vow of silence?” Papyrus straightened up, considering this for a while, while snorting slightly at his brother’s dramatic description. “I don’t remember taking any vow. However, I may recall agreeing with you that it would be a newer start if we didn’t drag the past with us to Snowdin,” he recalled, slightly lost in memory for a bit, before dragging himself almost forcefully back to the present. “But if you are certain, brother, I believe it would help us both to get this off our chests.” Sans snorted weakly at the unintentional pun.

“not sure i want to bore the kid,” he began, a bit anxious at the sight of their drying tears, but Frisk vehemently shook their head. _No way Sans_ , they signed. _We’re friends too, and I want to help_!

Sans softened a bit, touched. “okay, well, if you’re sure, better get comfy, because if one thing’s for sure, this is one long story. not exactly a happy one either,” he warned. “hey pap, could you help me up?” he asked, slightly embarrassed.

Papyrus did him one better. He swiftly wrapped Sans up in his comforter like a burrito, scooped him up, and carried him bridal style to the couch. Alphys and Undyne made a quick run to their apartment for beanbag chairs while Papyrus propped Sans up with pillows, then took a seat with him on the couch. Frisk eagerly accepted the offer for one of the beanbags, and everyone settled in, Toriel electing to use a chair from the dining room, while Undyne and Alphys scootched their chairs together so they could hold hands. Alphys looked a little bit too excited, Frisk noted, but they supposed it was a rare occasion to have someone open up to you so completely. Frisk also supposed Sans must be feeling more than a little guilty to reveal so much about himself. They scowled a bit, remembering what they had to go through to get into his bedroom back in the underground.

Sans snorted a bit, feeling the anticipatory gaze of everyone in the room, which was looking pretty small with so many people crammed into it. “well, pap, where should we start? it’s not every day we tell our life story” Papyrus was suddenly lost in thought. “Well,” he said, “perhaps it would be best if we started at the beginning.”

Sans looked understandably alarmed, eyeing Frisk and Toriel in particular. “whoa, pap, I don’t think that will be necessary. how about we start with aunt iris?” Papyrus agreed, and both became lost in thought as they recalled a simpler time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you made it. Feel free to leave a comment. Don't worry, this was just the prologue. The main story will start next chapter. If you want to check out stories I particularly enjoyed, or am currently enjoying, feel free to check out my bookmarks.


	2. Great Aunt Iris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks for the interest! I admit, I got excited, so have the next chapter a bit early. I aim to have one chapter out per week, but expect a bit of a delay on the next one, because midterms. My last one is next Monday (Physics, shudder) so it definitely won't be out until that is over. Because believe it or not, writing is an excellent distraction from studying.

_“let me put it to you this way…aunt iris was a generous woman, liked nothing better than to throw us a bone.”_

_“SANS!”_

_“no, really, she did…horrible aim, thankfully…”_

***

THUD. The crackle of damaged plaster followed afterward, loosened by the still-quivering projectile wedged firmly into the dreadful floral wallpaper. Soft powder rained down, dusting the blank-socketed skulls of the other quivering bones in the room, clinging to each other so tightly, it was difficult to tell where one brother ended and the other began, though the color of their sweaters provided an excellent clue.

The ancient one snorted from her seat on the ratty couch, from which she had not bothered to move. Blank eye sockets from the two children on the braided rug stared emptily at her yellowed bones, dressed neat and proper into a floral print dress, spotless white apron, and polished black shoes. Her book was still held firmly in her delicate right hand.

“If you have the energy to mope, you have the energy to clean,” she barked, gesturing with her bone-throwing hand to the cleaning closet. She stared at the pair, watching the shock slowly subside and awareness return before finally placing the book down and making shooing motions with their hands. “Get going, and you might finish before dinner.”

The sad attempt at a block tower was hastily abandoned as the duo made a dash for the cleaning closet, playfully shoving each other as they raced to the door.

 

_Two weeks ago…_

Two shivering bundles of bones sat on the cold hard bench of a very white hallway, hands joined in a death grip as the rare passerby rushed past, oblivious to the grief of the sweater-clad children who were now very alone in the world.

“S-sans?” the younger twin whispered, hesitant. There was a pause before the elder hummed in acknowledgement. “What happens now?”

What happens now? That was the question, wasn’t it? Sans knew they looked like toddlers by other monsters’ standards, but they were old enough mentally to know what falling down was. Not that the doctor who had explained it to them knew how skeleton ages worked.

Sans huffed a bit, still indignant at the hours-old memory. He knew about death, he didn’t need to be treated to the baby bones version. All that did was make it worse, dancing around the subject like that. It made the confirmation even more shocking, somehow, when it finally came, hastily forced out of the mouth of the large fish monster, eyes locked firmly with his, before hastily averting them as tears streamed out of his blank sockets. Their parents were gone, and they weren’t coming back. The how really didn’t matter in the end, the result was the same. As his tears dried into crusty lines on his cheekbones, Sans knew that Papyrus was all he had left.

“i don’t know, bro,” Sans choked out, biting a metaphorical lip. “just as lost as you.”

The two sat in silence for a bit, until Sans noticed his surroundings getting blurry once more. He wasn’t strong like Papyrus. Papyrus hadn’t even flinched at the news, while Sans cried like a baby bones. He was so cool. Sans was supposed to be strong, too, but it was hard. He was the eldest, so being the anchor was _his_ job, yet here he was, in tears yet again. He wished he could be like his brother, calm like a rock in a stream, simply allowing everything to flow past him, unaffected by any of it.

As if sensing his struggle, no words were exchanged as Papyrus quickly pulled his crying brother into a tight hug. The relief was immense. He was so busy beating himself up that he had denied his own feelings.

“At least we have each other,” Papyrus whispered, as Sans relaxed into his brother’s arms.

\--

Papyrus had no idea how long they sat there, but he was cold. Not cold physically, but he felt like the world wasn’t quite right anymore. He figured losing people must just be like this. Funny, he thought he was supposed to be sad. All the adults seemed to think so, their faces wrinkled and wet with grief for two people they didn’t even know, looking at him and his brother with expectant pity. His brother was clearly sad; he cried when they were given the news, silent streams gathering before dripping off his chin. But Papyrus, Papyrus had felt it wasn’t quite real when the doctors had delivered the news hours ago. It felt like a dream. Not even a terrible one, just one of those strange ones where you did nothing but exist. He felt as if his bones had frozen as his mind raced without giving him any usable information. No, he decided, clutching Sans a little tighter, he didn’t feel sad, he just felt…empty. The hallway was unnaturally quiet, all sound almost muffled, and everything felt off. Words felt even more wrong than the heavy silence. He was immensely glad, in this world gone mad, that his brother was here.

He sighed a bit, taking a moment to truly feel the weight of his brother, his there-ness. It was reassuring, solid, and _real_ in this void of feeling. He wished he could be sad like Sans. Anything would be better than this nothing he felt. He had felt the weight of the gaze of the doctor lingering on him as he failed to react to the news of their parent’s death. Was it wrong of him, not to feel anything? Did he not love his parents enough?

A cold hand on his shoulder broke him forcefully out of his spiraling thoughts. He jumped, Sans shifting against him to see what had startled his brother. Four eye sockets settled on a very stern-looking skeleton lady, one they had never seen before. Which was strange, Papyrus thought, since there weren’t very many skeletons underground.

“Come,” she said, roughly, though not, he thought, unkindly. It took a couple of seconds for this new development to register, but Papyrus was still the first to respond.

“Who are you?” he wondered aloud, arms still firmly wrapped around his brother.

A wry little smile flitted across the stern face before it was gone again. “I am your Great Aunt Iris,” she said. “Now come on, no use spending more time here than necessary.”

Papyrus was a bit confused. “But we don’t know who you are,” he said, question still unanswered, and vague warnings about following strangers coming to mind.

The skeleton woman actually snorted this time. “You silly boy, I’m your next of kin. Honestly, your only kin at this point, well, aside from him of course.” Here she nodded at Sans, who was staring up at her blankly, as she folded her arms roughly across her chest with a slight huff. “Really, what do they teach children these days,” she muttered to herself.

Papyrus was unsure whether he was meant to hear that. “I’m…sorry?” he half asked.

The woman softened, slightly. “Well, at least they taught you manners. Come along, I’ll be looking after you now. No need to linger in this awful place any longer.”

She waited until Papyrus detached himself from his brother enough to take her hand, then slid off of the bench with Sans in tow.

“where are we going?” Sans finally spoke up.

Aunt Iris snorted again. “I suppose if I believed you to be without intelligence, I would simply say ‘home.’ However, I am going to assume you meant to ask where, specifically, I am taking you. There’s a difference. Say what you mean next time, boy. I have a small house in the suburbs of New Home, though I suppose it will, in fact, be your new home, curse Asgore and his nonexistent imagination.”

Despite their jaws hanging open, small grins at the expense of this ridiculous woman somehow managed to cross both of their faces. Papyrus exchanged a look with Sans, who merely shrugged, and the boys allowed themselves to be led outside.

…

Papyrus thought back to their first meeting as he worked with Sans to set up the supplies for cleaning, Sans running to fill up the bucket and Papyrus pulling out two mops. He supposed they weren’t designed for monsters their size, as he was too short to escape the splash zone while he worked. He grimaced a bit at the uncomfortable memory; wet socks were the worst. Hopefully, he would escape that fate this time.

Sans returned, and they both struggled enthusiastically through the task. They worked in companionable silence for a while, save for the wet sounds the mops would make as they sloshed their contents onto the floor after a soaking in the bucket. He absentmindedly wiped some moisture from the back of his skull. Papyrus supposed this was his life now. Funny, two weeks ago, they were alive, and now they’re gone. All of a sudden, it struck him; they really were gone, weren’t they? The floor he was mopping started to get a bit blurry, colored tiles running together into a black and while mess that turned grey, grey like Ma’s favorite sweater that she never seemed to take off, which filled his vision entirely as she hugged him to her chest while he cried-

WHAP. A wet mop hit him lightly on the chest, splattering the front of his orange-striped jumper with soapy water. He blinked back tears, shocked to see Sans’ cheeky grin.

“water you doing bro? You’re supposed to be mopping, not moping.”

Papyrus groaned at the horrible joke before wiping his eyes, demeanor sober. “Sorry, Sans, I guess I just realized they’re really gone.” He gave a bit of a watery chuckle. “Pretty stupid, I know. It’s been weeks, but I still expected them to walk through that door any minute, and we’d laugh about the horrible prank, and they’d apologize for scaring us so badly, but that’s not going to happen because they’re gone, they’re really-”

Suddenly he was in a hug, tears finally falling, only to be caught by the blue-striped sweater. “i know, bro,” Sans whispered. Then frowned. “you’re not stupid. i felt the same way.”

His brother’s arms were now gone, hands reaching for his mop, fingers wagging playfully. “now, will the great royal guard papyrus allow the evil human to best him in a watery battle!?” Papyrus saw the strike coming, clear as day, countering the waterlogged stick with his own.

“Of course not,” he scoffed, throwing out his chest. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL SOAK THE HUMAN THOROUGHLY!” swinging his mop with playfully deadly intent at the blue-striped target, connecting with a wet SMACK.

Not to be outdone, Sans countered, and Papyrus was sure the sharp sounds of staff hitting staff could be heard even by the neighbors as they devolved into an impromptu sword fight of sorts. It was definitely heard by Aunt Iris. Her sharp reprimand quickly brought them out of the heat of battle, and both boys, giggling and sopping wet, continued their chore, hearts a bit lighter.

\--

Iris was pleased by their eager compliance, which was certainly not the case when they first arrived...

 

_Two(-ish) weeks ago…_

This would not do. Iris frowned at the listless little skeletons. Honestly, it had been two days, and they made no move to play with the toys or puzzles she had dug out from the dusty hall closet. She supposed they had accepted the books, but neither of them were reading. Not a page had been turned for the past hour. A shame. She had heard they were both avid readers. It wasn’t healthy to stew in negative emotions like this. She wasn’t deaf to their whimpers at night, and could see self-pity was quickly setting in. This called for a change of pace.

THUD.

Iris suppressed a smirk at the alarm on the faces of her charges as they were jolted out of their dark thoughts by a large bone sinking into the wall behind the couch where they sat, eye sockets blank and staring at her in shock.

“Up!” she barked. “It’s time to make yourselves useful!”

Both skeletons looked at each other in confusion. Iris huffed a bit. “Come on! I’m not going to hold your hands, follow me.”

She led them to the closet where she kept cleaning supplies, which consisted of various mops, floor brushes, feather dusters, brooms, rags, and an old-fashioned wooden bucket. Confusion was written all over their faces. If Iris was in touch with the ways of the younger generation, she would have face-palmed.

“Surely you know what these items are, yes?” Nods, but still some confusion. “And how they are used.” More hesitant nods. “Good, then get to it.”

“what?” Sans ventured, face still blank. Iris decided perhaps she should elaborate.

“Thank you for asking! You can start by mopping the floors.”

“but-” Iris stopped dead. “Is there any objection?” she said, voice a bit dangerous.

Sans clearly did not pick up on this, or rather, did not know how to properly respond to it. “uh, but these are grown-up chores,” he said. “ma said we were too small for this.” Papyrus nodded, showing his support. “I broke a vase once using a broom!” He piped up.

Iris’ sockets narrowed, and both boys felt they had made a grave mistake. “Well, it seems I was mistaken. I thought you boys were older than baby bones, but if that isn’t the case, I suppose I still have some tools for smaller hands left over.”

She shut the door sharply, and led them up the stairs. She took them to the bathroom, taking out two old toothbrushes from the medicine cabinet. The bristles were severely bowed with heavy use, and coated in cobwebs. “There,” she declared, sunnily, “Even a baby bones can use that! Now, you will clean the entire house, top to bottom. If you’re not finished by suppertime, it will pass without you. You may start with the upstairs bathroom.” And she walked out, not needing to look back to see their panicked faces before they hastily began to scrub.

She took pity on them after only 30 minutes of rapid brushing. She must be getting soft in her old age. They were each rotating their wrists, wincing slightly, before panicked expressions took over when they noticed her in the doorway. “Now, do you boys have any objections to switching to the proper tools?” Heads shook so fast their bones rattled, and Iris held back a smirk as helped get them set up with the large mops, even correcting their grip and posture as necessary.

 

…

 

Their outlooks had certainly improved since then. They were reluctant to clean the next day, but all she had to do was mention what a shame it was no one was going to enjoy the meal she worked so hard on, and they hopped to it pretty quick. Honestly, the boys were sweet, and she felt slightly guilty for scaring them so thoroughly. However, it was immensely preferable to allowing the pair to wallow in sorrow. Better to focus on a task instead. She could have sworn Papyrus even enjoyed the hard work, tackling stains with a single-minded fury she had never seen before. And Sans just seemed to enjoy working alongside his brother, never hesitating to “improve” a dull task by making a game out of it. She decided then she’d better check up on them, before Sans started something comparable to the dish incident.

She tread lightly to the kitchen doorway, observing the two as they worked as quickly as possible, still struggling a bit with the oversized tools. Sans would occasionally flick water onto Papyrus’ skull, and he would wipe it off, oblivious. Iris stifled a grin at the antics of the boys. Especially Sans, that cheeky little devil. Their technique left something to be desired, but she supposed she could forgive sloppiness while the mops remained four times their size. Really, she should know better than to allow herself to get attached. But how could she not? They were adorable.

 _Really now, Iris_ , she scolded herself, _you know what they need now_. She sighed internally, leaving the boys to their work and returning to her book. There were several perceived kindnesses two young orphans certainly did not need. One was providing a replacement mother. No one could ever fill that role; attempting to do so would only cause resentment and longing for something one could never again have. It would be extremely selfish of her to do so. The other important one was pity. Growing children didn’t need pity. Pity was to be reserved for the irreparable, when all hope was gone. Children were anything but. They were tough, ready to face the world and all its challenges head-on given proper guidance and support, which Iris was certain she would be able to provide.

Not that she didn’t understand loss. She had herself withstood plenty, and understood the void loved ones left behind would never be completely filled. An adjustment period was only to be expected, but she knew that being allowed to dwell on the past for hours on end did not help one bit. She sighed. She supposed that was why she took the two hooligans in. Really, they had no one left, and neither did she, for that matter. A bit of a chuckle escaped her as smacking sounds that sounded suspiciously like a mop fight began to ring out from the kitchen. Good intentions truly did pave the road to h-

WHAP. _SMACK._

“BOYS!” she barked, “NO EPIC BATTLES IN THE HOUSE!”

Still, she laughed softly to herself, hearing the sharp cessation of combat noises, followed by their childish giggles.

\--

In what seemed like no time at all, the two boys were out like lights, not even flinching as the door to their shared bedroom creaked open. Iris bit back a smile, recalling the shimmer of the newly mopped and waxed floors of the house, only outshone by the boys’ grins of accomplishment, having finished in record time. Really, they had gone above and beyond with the waxing, despite having no knowledge of how to do so properly. But both were clearly eager to please, so she decided to tactfully ignore how slippery her nice floors had become and chalk it up as a lesson for another day.

Both faces were now relaxed in their slumber, and Iris nodded knowingly to herself as she closed the door and prepared to settle down for the night. Nothing chases the nightmares away like good old-fashioned elbow grease.

 

**

_“You remember correctly, brother, but I suspect she enjoyed our company, though she never said so outright.”_

_“heh, you’re right, bro.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please, feel free to comment. I love constructive criticism. It's one of the reasons I decided to post in the first place. I'm also considering starting up a questions blog and posting this on tumblr, provided there's interest. The username is the same, because like Asgore, I am not great with names. You can also ask me questions here; I have a feeling the perspective switches and time jumping may be a bit confusing. Also, please tell me if I'm missing a tag. I'm a bit new to the archive. Thanks, and have a great week!


	3. Pillow Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Physics did not go well, but midterms are over, so writing will pick up again. Enjoy this (mostly) fluffy chapter.

_“she was rough on us sometimes, but then again, she was rough in general.”_

_“Tough love was just her style. I’m certain we were a handful!”_

***

Sans was bored. He’d never thought Aunt Iris would allow them to be bored, but just several weeks later, here he was. The house was spotless, and his reading was slow. He just didn’t understand why the author insisted on describing the ocean for at least forty pages. All they did was enter the submarine. He groaned, flopping back on the bed, book flopping open over his eyes. It had been a lazy Sunday, and the brothers were supposed to be settling down for bed, but he really wasn’t tired. He lifted the book up enough to peek at his brother, occupying the other twin bed across the room. Geez, he wasn’t reading either, just picking feathers out of the pillow.

Pillows. Now there was something he hadn’t done in what felt like forever.

\--

Papyrus was bored. He glanced over at Sans. His book was over his face. Lazybones. At least Papyrus was pretending to read. He wasn’t sure how many times he’d read the same paragraph over again. It felt familiar, but he didn’t recognize what was going on. He absentmindedly picked at a loose feather, enjoying the feeling of the sharp stalk, and the small amount of give with every tug. He smiled a bit with satisfaction as it came free, choosing that moment to sneak another glance at Sans. He caught a brief glimpse of an all too familiar skeletal grin before his vision went white.

WHUMP. Papyrus froze in shock for an instant, kicking himself for failing to pay better attention to his surroundings, especially since Sans was likely as bored as he was. His annoyance only grew when the assault continued from above, Sans apparently having left his bed to pummel him with a second pillow.

“pillow fight!” Sans proclaimed, showing no mercy. Papyrus grinned. He had nearly forgotten about this game. He snatched up a pillow of his own and began a vigorous counterattack. Sans may have started this fight, but he would end it. There was no way he was going to lose!

\--

The sound of laughter had alerted Iris, who couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed. It was bedtime, after all, and she had her doubts about the amount of humor children could find in their current reading material. She had been so proud of them when they picked up some of her personal favorites; _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_ and _Robinson Crusoe_. She took pride in how smart they were for their age. Perhaps they were ready to begin pursuit of a formal education. She admitted to herself she was running out of activities to amuse two energetic young monsters. The house could only be so clean.

Another peal of laughter jolted her out of her thoughts and into her slippers, intent on restoring the peace. She was not prepared for the veritable snowstorm of feathers she encountered when she opened the door. She gave a long-suffering sigh, pinching the area between her eye sockets with thumb and forefinger. Honestly, only Sans could be responsible for such mischief at this hour.

“BOYS!” she barked, and it really was astounding how quickly the pillow combat came to a halt. Both froze, slowing registering the fluff raining down around them, and looking a bit sheepish. Caught in the act. At least they had the decency to look guilty. She settle for firm indifference.

“It’s time for bed, and now you don’t have any pillows. You’ll just have to wait until morning to fix this I’m afraid. Gather up the feathers, then go to sleep!”

…

“oh no, aunt iris, please, i can’t do this any longer.”

“Come now Sans, I said you boys would fix this in the morning, and you still have two hours before your morning is up. Now again, poke, don’t peek.”

Sans was seated on the right side of the couch, frustration turning his mouth slightly downward as he struggled to make his sewing needle poke up in the right place. At least his pillow wasn’t broken in as many places as Papyrus’.

“Look at Papyrus’ needlework! So clean, so precise! My, it looks as good as new.”

Sans hastily looked across Aunt Iris at his brother across the couch. He couldn’t believe his eye sockets. Papyrus was already sealing his pillow back up, re-stuffed and everything, a satisfied smile lighting up his features at his guardian’s praise.

Sans sighed and got back to blindly stabbing as Papyrus went upstairs to replace his pillow and retrieve his book with Aunt Iris’ approval. She chuckled a bit at his enthusiasm, and Sans’ subsequent slump.

“Oh, karma,” she said, mostly to herself. Sans paused. He had never heard that word before.

“what’s that?” he ventured.

Iris turned to him. “Keep poking,” she said, correcting his grip. She smiled slightly as he continued. “Karma is a concept that originates from a human religion. But its usage has evolved in everyday language to refer to a person’s actions coming back to them in some form. This can be good or bad depending if the original action was good or bad.” Sans was still confused. Aunt Iris seemed to sense this, pausing to remove a pin before handing the pillow back to him before continuing.

“Let’s see if I can come up with a good example…say you have a cookie, but in order to get it, you stole it from your brother. Later, when you have a cookie of your own that you bought with money that you earned, someone steals it from you. That would be your bad karma coming back to you. In a way, you stole your own cookie, since your wrongdoing simply came back to bite you. Karma can also be good, but for some reason, people seem to dwell on misfortune rather than appreciate what they have.”

Sans thought he understood. “but why did you say that just now?” he asked, examining a stitch. Iris checked his work as well, chuckling a bit.

“I know you started the war, Sans, and you dragged your brother into it, compelling him to fix the damage as well. I was amused because he seemed to enjoy this ‘punishment’ as much as the original game, while you are having a hard time because of your mischief.”

Here she grew serious. “I understand that this was harmless fun, but you must remember in the future to think before you act on your impulses, and consider the possible consequences. It can be a difficult thing to be responsible for an accident you cannot fix with a bit of thread.”

Sans shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the turn this conversation was taking.

The old woman paused here, softening a bit. Her eyes glistened, suddenly watery, focused on something that wasn’t there. “I’m glad you have each other. You always know how to get him out of his head.”

The moment was gone as soon as it came. Sans wasn’t entirely sure it had happened at all. Businesslike, Aunt Iris checked his stitching. Sans noted with some surprise that he was almost finished.

“There, was that so hard? Just refill it, and finish it up,” she said, heading to the kitchen to start lunch. Sans almost didn’t catch her murmured words as she turned the corner:

“If only everything was fixed so easily.”

***

_“You mastered sewing eventually! I still prefer your work to mine.”_

_“thanks, bro. you always were better at me than knitting, though.”_

_“Nyeh heh, of course! You would always ‘lose’ your needles. Aunt Iris would get so mad at you! I swear, she nearly glued them to your skull!”_

_“i’m surprised she didn’t. she ‘needled’ me on more than one occasion.”_

_“…I’m not going to grace that with a response.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez. Aunt Iris is getting a bit dark. Sorry for the short chapter, it was a long week. Don't worry, the plot will really pick up soon. I'm still trying to establish characters. I've also been trying to keep the Sans to Papyrus ratio about 50/50, though I believe it is falling a bit in Sans' favor at the moment, which is weird, because Sans is surprisingly difficult to write. Papyrus is pretty easy; he's pretty much my favorite to write for. Iris is supposed to be a bit mysterious, so it's kind of okay if you don't really know a lot about her, though she does tend to give a bit more away than she's aware of. 
> 
> Anyways, I love comments! Anything, really, though I would definitely appreciate feedback. I don't really write fiction, but I would like to try original content in the future. So, please, let me know how I'm doing. Thanks for reading!


	4. Conflict Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers didn't always get along as babybones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile...(sweating intensifies). So enjoy! More notes at the end.

_“What was that, human?  Of course Sans and I didn’t always get along!”_

_“yeah. honestly, kid, we didn’t exactly see eyesocket to eyesocket most of the time.  too different, you see.  well, until we both grew up a little.”_

_“Oh yes, I…don’t even remember what we used to fight about.”_

_“heh. me neither, bro.”_

_***_

The good news was, the boys were comfortable enough to call this place home.  The bad news; it seemed their parents had never gotten around to conflict resolution.

Sans’ excess energy and need for near constant companionship actively clashed with Papyrus’ withdrawn, contemplative nature and need for personal space.  It didn’t help that Sans was lonelier without his parents, and Papyrus didn’t receive nearly as much alone time as a result.

However, Iris suspected that the boys didn’t notice the connection between the isolated spats.  All Sans knew was that his brother didn’t want to play with him.  How could he be so cruel?  What did Sans do wrong?  All Papyrus knew was that he was tired and was wondered why his brother couldn’t be bothered to leave him alone for an hour.  How could he be so selfish?  What did Papyrus do wrong?

Sans bounced off the walls. Papyrus sat still and thought.  Of course the situation would turn volatile.

The boys’ fighting styles ranged from physical altercations to the famed silent treatment.  Of course, neither were effective, as the two never really resolved the underlying issue.  They would simply tire of the practice and put in on the back burner, choosing to pretend the issue didn’t exist.  As the pot heated up over time.  And finally boiled over.

Iris had finally had enough. The two hadn’t spoken in nearly a week, then all of a sudden Sans had tackled Papyrus, who lashed out in fright, and likely, anger.  Oh, look.  Now her nice rug was being torn up.  Guess it was time to take action. 

Her eyelights winked out as she prepared to intervene.

“S T O P.”

The pile of bones froze in a manner that would have been comical if Iris hadn’t been incensed.

“I have had _enough_.”  Her voice was low and dangerous, demanding compliance.

She walked over to the hooligans, and latched each index finger around a clavicle, ignoring their pained protests as she dragged them over to the couch.  She transitioned to their shoulders and turned them so they were facing each other.  Pairs of empty eyesockets refused to meet.

“Now, you will sit.”

There was an awkward pause, as both boys glanced at the couch uncertainly.

Iris hissed.

“ _I said S I T._ ”

Both boys scrambled to mount the couch, short legs struggling to gain purchase.  After some maneuvering, and massaging of temples, Iris finally got the boys to sit cross-legged facing each other.

“Now you will talk.  You will not leave this couch until you have reached an understanding.”

Iris walked over to a chair, and picked up her book.

…

Wow, look at that.  It had been four hours and neither had budged, arms crossed tensely across their chests, eysockets fixated on the couch, or the wall.  She had to admire their resolve.  Especially Sans’, who usually had so much trouble sitting still.  She was almost proud.

Except nothing was being resolved.  They were not following instructions, and without some guidance, the two would likely be there until the next morning.

She slammed her book shut, causing the boys to jump.  Their eyes shifted guiltily, shoulders now tensed with fear as she stalked over to the long piece of furniture.

 _Good,_ she thought.

“I didn’t hear any talking.”  Oh, they were squirming now.

“The longer this takes, the longer you sit here.  Explain.”

Predictably, Sans broke first.

“i don’t know what to say.”

“Not to me, boy, to him,” Iris said, irritated.

“but you said- ”

“ _To him._ ”

“don’t wanna,” Sans muttered.

Iris gathered the patience she no longer had, and turned to confront the other skele.

“What about you, Papyrus?”

Papyrus skillfully avoided both faces, shaking his head slightly.

Iris firmly gripped the bridge of her nasal opening with thumb and forefinger, willing herself not to lose her temper.

“It appears we have reached an impasse.  If I were 50 years younger, you would have sat here until you broke.  But I’m old, tired, and much more sadistic these days.  So it appears we will have to do this the hard way.”

The fear on those young faces was delicious.  The scramble to appease was immediate and frantic, voices simultaneous and competing for attention.

“That is not necessary, we’ll talk!”

“we’ll talk!  we’ll talk!”

“Too late. Outside. Now.”

How the feet did drag.

“ _March_.”

…

Two small skeletons faced each other, fidgeting in place, in the small yard behind the house, ten paces apart.  However, their nervousness about the situation they found themselves in did not entirely eclipse the anger they both felt.

“Alright,” Iris said, arms crossed in front of her chest, overseeing the proceedings from the porch.  “Now you will settle this like monsters.  Engage.”

Complete confusion.  Iris sighed.  She supposed she should have expected this.  The younger generation just didn’t respect the old ways.  Well, if she was going to raise these boys, she would need to instill the importance of upholding monster traditions.  She supposed FIGHTs were a decent place to start.

“In a FIGHT, boys.  One of you must draw the other into a FIGHT.”

Papyrus and Sans exchanged a look.  “How?” Papyrus ventured.

“Simply will it to be so.  Intent is key.  You’ll know when you’ve succeeded, but one of you needs to take initiative.  Oh, but be sure to include me as well.  It wouldn’t do to leave you two without supervision in your first fight.”

She didn’t get a chance to finish before the background faded away, leaving only the three of them.  Papyrus squawked in surprise. 

Iris smirked.  Leave it to Sans to jump in without regard for the consequences.  It seemed he would be learning to control that impulsiveness the hard way, as Papyrus had the first turn as a result.

“I’m a firm believer in learning from experience, so since you’re both smart boys, I’ll only intervene or give direction if I see fit.  Now, engage.”

\--

Papyrus eyed his choices.  None looked particularly appealing.  He figured he should thoroughly explore his available options before activing, even though the delay might make Aunt Iris mad.  It was his turn, it seemed, so he would use it as he saw fit.  He didn’t particularly want to FIGHT Sans, though he was still quite mad at him for scaring him earlier.  He also wasn’t feeling particularly merciful.  He wasn’t going to let Sans win.  That left ACTing.  It seemed he could try to talk to Sans or check him.  It seemed Aunt Iris was available as well, but his conflict wasn’t with her.  Besides, they were supposed to be ‘reaching an understanding.’  Whatever Aunt Iris meant by that.

Sans let out a strangled yelp.  Papyrus jumped, attention taken away from his options.  Aunt Iris started _cackling_.  She was certainly enjoying this.  Watching them struggle.  He wondered what happened.

Aunt Iris chortled a bit more, wiping tears from her eyesockets.

“Foolish boy!  There are always repercussions for acting out of turn!”

Papyrus winced a bit, turning his attention back to the options.  He certainly wouldn’t be trying _that_ any time soon.  His mind warred with itself, feeling mixed sadistic glee at his brother’s punishment for his impulsiveness and concern for him; that certainly sounded painful.  But he was still mad, so he felt no inclination to show him mercy.

He eventually settled on CHECKing Sans, figuring he’d better play this strategically.

*SANS 20 ATK 20 DEF 18/20 HP 20 MP

*He’s mad at you.

Well, that was unhelpful.  Well, maybe not completely.  Sans was mad at him?  But Sans started it!  Or did he?  Papyrus wasn’t entirely certain what was going on anymore.  What were they even fighting about?  Papyrus wasn’t sure.  All he knew was that he was mad, too.

He was startled out of his puzzled musings by bones being hurled at his face.  Iris was howling with laughter at this point.  He supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything else.  It wasn’t as though she had been helpful before.  She often did this, just left them to struggle as she watched with glee. 

But the monster who threw the bones was Sans. 

His eyesockets narrowed.  Alright, if this was the way he wanted to play the game, Papyrus would play.  But Sans had made one fatal mistake; now Papyrus knew what the game was.  And now that Papyrus understood this fact, there would be no uncertainty in his movements.  He would play this game, and he would not back down until he was the victor.

He ATTACKed without mercy.

…

Papyrus was wheezing, but ATTACKed yet again.  It had probably only been twenty minutes, but it felt like they had been out there for hours, attacks so smoothly coordinated it was like there weren’t turns at all.  He would not let up first, thought he felt he was beginning to scrape the bottom of the metaphorical barrel as far as Magical Power was concerned.  Sans was beginning to tire too, panting just as hard as he took Papyrus’ admittedly pathetic knucklebone to the sternum.  It bounced off, harmlessly, before dissipating.

Sans looked as though he was running out of steam as well.  He actually paused during his turn to crouch down and pant.  Papyrus gladly accepted the short break, feeling a bit of glee at his ‘win’; Sans had stopped first.  He took stock of his stats, and was a bit puzzled to note the despite the numerous hits he had sustained, he had only lost about 4 HP.

Why? This made no sense.

Papyrus decided he’d have to CHECK Sans the next round.  FIGHTing was getting him nowhere.  Maybe more information was the key.

\--

Sans was beyond frustrated.  Papyrus was stubborn as anything.  He noted, with some satisfaction, that he appeared to be as exhausted as Sans.  That was something at least.

Ugh, he didn’t want to lose, but he was tired.  And this was _boring._

Honestly, he didn’t exactly feel angry anymore.  But he would never concede to his brother.  There must be another way to end it.

His thoughts were cut short by a certain skeleton’s laughter.

Wow, Aunt Iris’ snickering was incredibly annoying.  If anyone, she was the one to blame for his current predicament.

But she could make his life extremely unpleasant, so confronting her was out.  He’d have to ‘reach an understanding’ with Papyrus.  Maybe he would remember why they were fighting.

So he selected TALK, much to Papyrus’ surprise.

“ _huff, huff…_ so…do you remember why we were fighting?”

Papyrus looked at him with wide eyes, deciding to TALK as well.

“ _Huff_ , _hah_ … Nope…I was hoping that you did, so that we could stop.”

Sans looked at him, sweaty, dirty, clothes in disarray...this was so dumb, they were fighting over nothing.  He couldn’t help it.  He began to laugh.

Papyrus was taken aback, but soon started to laugh as well.

In no time at all, they were both weeping with laughter, and the background reappeared as the two collapsed to the ground, exhausted.

\--

Iris rolled her eyelights.  Welp, there went that plan.  Nothing had been resolved, yet again.  She knew that they would need to figure this out, that their issues would eventually drive the two apart as they grew if not properly handled.

But she couldn’t exactly fault their strategy, or stop a sudden rush of affection for the young ones.

May as well leave it on the back burner for now.  She had awhile to help them figure this out.

“Come on, you deviants.  It’s time for dinner.”

_***_

_“honestly, it was probably my fault most of the time.  i was a real stinker growing up.”_

_“No, brother, I am quite certain it was my doing most of the time!  All you wanted to do was play. Was it really so difficult for me to join in?”_

_“nah, bro, you needed your space, and i didn’t respect that.”_

_“…”_

_“I miss those times, Sans.”_

_“yeah.  seems like a lifetime ago that our worst problems were so simple.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay! Honestly, I just didn't like this chapter. So I scrapped it. And wrote another one. Which I also hated.
> 
> Long story short, sometimes, if I don't know the answer to a problem, I'll put it on hold. Indefinitely. Which isn't fair to you, but I haven't yet figured out how to combat this. But I'll work on it. This whole piece is a learning opportunity.
> 
> Thank you all so much! Your comments and hits warm my heart. But back to business:
> 
> I'd like to talk about the progression of this fic. I have the whole story outlined. The only part I don't have worked out in great detail is this babybones section. I feel like there is more young bros stuff I'd like to write in the future, but as it doesn't contribute directly to the plot, I'll progress the story for now and do a compilation of one-shots of the boys' time with Aunt Iris. These will likely be cannon to this fic. I've also done some explorations into alternate events, but those won't be posted until the main plot catches up.
> 
> So, about an update schedule. Sorry guys, still can't promise anything. I thought I would have time over the holidays, but family time took off. Now I'm back at school, but with a much lighter course load, so I'll see what I can do.
> 
> In other news, my tumblr page is up! Same username, still don't know what I'm doing. So yeah, if you want to ask me or any of my characters questions, feel free to do so there. Or in the comments below, whatever works for you guys.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and feel free to comment! I love constructive criticism and feedback of any sort!


End file.
